


Ghosted

by jenkies81



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angel Wings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), F/M, Heavy Angst, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Castiel (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25980511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenkies81/pseuds/jenkies81
Summary: Castiel is ambushed by a group of vengeful angels. Sam and Dean find him, but they're too late. He's human and his grace is gone.After the Winchesters find him, and then lose him, they must figure out how to keep fighting.Sam is able to process his death, but Dean will never be the same.***Castiel licks his lips and tastes more blood.“We’ll talk all this out tomorrow, ok?”Castiel nods.“We just need to get you through tonight,” says Dean. “You’re pretty banged up, but we’ve stitched up everything and you’re going to be ok.”Castiel doesn’t answer. He can’t take Dean’s hope away. That would be cruel. He keeps breathing. His eyes flutter.***
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 52





	1. Look to tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Hang tight...

Castiel wakes up in stops and starts. He feels every bone in his body. He aches. Something is pressing hard on his chest.

“He’s losing a lot of blood,” says a voice.

Castiel wants to know what happened but he can’t find his voice. He tastes something metallic.

“Drive faster, Sammy.”

“My foot is to the floor.”

His thoughts are foggy but a distant part of him knows Sam and Dean are close. They’re in the Impala.

“Fuck me, I’ve never seen him like this.”

“We’re almost home. Hang tight. Is he still bleeding?”

“Yeah. It’s bad. I can’t even tell where it’s coming from anymore.”

Castiel searches for his grace. It’s got to be with him somewhere, but he can’t sense it. He tests his fingers and feels them twitch in response.

“Oh my God, he’s awake. Cas? Can you hear me?”

He can’t open his eyes.

“Stay with me, buddy.”

“He’ll be all right. We just need to get to the bunker.”

The next thing Castiel feels is something cold and hard beneath his back. 

“Hold him steady.”

“This would be easier if we could get him on the table.”

Table? When did he leave the car?

“If he convulses again, he’ll fall. He’s better on the floor.”

“I don’t think he should look like that.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Hand me the gauze.”

Castiel feels his voice like sandpaper in the back of his throat. “Dean?”

“Cas?”

He feels two hands on his face. They gently shift his head.

“Can you open your eyes? Can you hear me?”

Instead of total darkness he sees a shadowy blur. Pain begins like the tide receding from the shore before a tsunami. He blinks. A primal feeling of dread fills his chest. It’s about to get worse. He opens his eyes and the pain crashes into him. He screams, or tries to, but his voice is drowned out by the sheer agony of consciousness. Like screaming isn’t enough. Like there is no sound comparable to the amount of pain he’s feeling.

“Jesus,” says Dean. “Help me hold him!”

Castiel knows his eyes are wide open because the light is blinding, but he can’t make out any shapes. Pain keeps coming. It consumes his muscles and seeps into his bones. It’s overwhelming. He’s sinking into a seemingly endless flood.

It doesn’t come in waves. There’s no brief reprieve between onslaughts. The pain just keeps growing deeper. It has to break at some point. He knows it has to break. He clings to that fact like a life raft. It has to end. Pain does not last forever.

“It’s ok, Cas. You’re safe,” says Dean.

“We’re here,” says Sam. “Nothing can get you.”

It’s weak, but somewhere in the flood he finds his voice. “Hurts,” he breathes.

“I know,” says Dean. “You’re cut up pretty bad, but nothing is broken.”

Finally, the pain reaches a tipping point and Castiel finds himself gasping for air.

“Breathe, Cas. Deep breaths,” says Dean. One hand is holding Castiel’s and the other is cupping his cheek.

Sam has Castiel’s other hand. “You’re going to hyperventilate,” says Sam. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Dean mimics the instructions.

Castiel watches Dean's nostrils flare as he inhales and then focuses on his lips as he exhales. He doesn’t mean to stare. He knows Dean hates staring but Dean’s face and Sam’s voice are the only things keeping him afloat.

Dean rubs his thumb over Castiel’s cheek.

Castiel breathes with him.

“You’re doing great,” says Sam. He moves a hand to Castiel’s neck. “We need to slow down your heart rate.”

He keeps his focus on Dean. Green eyes watch him with anticipation so intense Castiel can almost feel it. He breathes.

“Good,” says Dean slowly. “You’re doing such a good job. I need you to keep going for me. Can you do that?”

Castiel nods. He’ll do anything for Dean.

“I’m going to ask you some questions,” says Dean. “Just answer yes or no, ok? Don’t stop breathing.”

Castiel nods again.

“Do you remember us?”

“Yes.” His voice is raspy and weak but at least he can speak again.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

He has no idea. They were on a hunt. No, he’d separated from the Winchesters. He was in Heaven. He takes another deep breath. The answer is somewhere near the edges of his mind. Someone called him to Heaven. Someone pretending to be Gabriel. But it wasn’t Gabriel. It was an ambush.

He feels his heart beating faster.

It was a group of angels.

“It’s ok,” says Dean, lifting his hand to stroke Castiel’s hair. “I just need to know if you remember.”

He fell. His wings, his grace, his sword; all gone. The angels stripped him bare and cast him back to Earth.

He was human again. He swallows hard. “I remember,” he says.

“That’s good,” says Dean. “You’re doing so good.” He has yet to break eye-contact with Castiel. Usually, by this point, he would have looked to Sam. Something must be wrong. Castiel glances at Sam.

He’s crying. Silent tears are rolling down his cheeks and he’s watching Castiel closely.

Castiel looks back to Dean. He finally recognizes the taste in his mouth. It’s blood.

The pain is softer now, either that or his body has finally adjusted. It takes him a few moments, but he finally understands what’s happening. He’s dying. “Dean,” he says slowly. “I need to tell you something.”

“Tell me later,” says Dean. “Just keep breathing for now.”

Castiel shakes his head. “I love—”

“We know,” says Dean. “We love you, too.” He opens his mouth, then closes it again. He huffs. He runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair. “Just breathe for me, Cas.”

Dean must know he’s dying, too. All three of them know.

Castiel breathes. The next words may be his last. The pain is ebbing away. That can’t be a good sign. “You don’t know how much you mean to me,” he says.

“Don’t do that,” says Dean. “Don’t you dare do that.”

“I—”

“Shut up,” says Dean. “Save your breath.”

“I’m so sorry,” says Castiel.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” says Sam.

“Dean,” he says again.

Dean’s eyes are beginning to water.

“Our bond,” he says.

Dean shakes his head. “Tell me about it tomorrow.”

“But—”

“No.”

Castiel licks his lips and tastes more blood.

“We’ll talk all this out tomorrow, ok?”

Castiel nods.

“We just need to get you through tonight,” says Dean. “You’re pretty banged up, but we’ve stitched up everything and you’re going to be ok.”

Castiel doesn’t answer. He can’t take Dean’s hope away. That would be cruel. He keeps breathing. His eyes flutter.

Dean squeezes his hand.

He takes in one more deep breath. His lungs struggle to expand but he’s not in pain anymore. He lets his eyes close.

Something touches his forehead. He feels breath ghost across his face.

“Cas?”

He wants to answer but he can’t find his voice. He knows Dean is bent over him; face pressed close against his.

“I love you.”

He knows. He loves Dean, too.


	2. Camping

Dean sits back on his heels and lets Cas go. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, The Empty; it doesn’t matter where Cas went, they’ll find him again.

Sam’s voice comes from the other side of Cas. “Are you ok?”

Dean stares at Cas. “Yeah,” he answers.

“We need to burn him.”

“Jesus Christ,” snaps Dean. “He’s not even cold yet.”

“I just meant—”

“He’ll need his vessel when he comes back.”

“Comes back?”

“I don’t know where he went, but I’m gonna find him.” He repositions himself and takes Cas in his arms, then stands. He grunts under the weight. “We’ll keep him in his room with a preservation spell on the vessel.”

“Dean?”

He walks out of the room with Cas in his arms. It’s difficult to maneuver while holding him, but the sensation is one Dean is morbidly familiar with. He doesn’t even need to research a spell. He found one when they first moved into the bunker, just in case he needed it. He lays Cas on his bed. If it weren’t for the blood and bandages, he’d look like he was asleep.

Dean nods to himself as he arranges Cas into a comfortable position. He knows exactly where to find the book with the preservation spell. It’s in his room on his desk. He brushes a lock of hair from Cas’ forehead then leaves to retrieve the book.

When he returns, he finds Sam sitting on the edge of Cas’ bed. “Do you need help?” he asks.

Dean opens the book to a page he marked. “Can you draw this around the bed? And grab the candles?” 

“I’ll get on it.” He leaves and quickly returns with an armful of candles, chalk, ashes and salt.

Dean lays the book open at the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna work on his body, you work on the floor.”

“Sounds good.”

Sam doesn’t bat an eye when Dean leaves and comes back with a bowl of water and a cloth. He removes Cas’ trench coat, folds it and puts it near the door. He cleans Cas up a bit, fixes his face and wipes the blood away. He pours salt around Cas. He unbuttons Cas’ shirt and draws a symbol over his heart with the ashes and water. He lets it dry then buttons the shirt again.

Sam works quietly on the floor.

Dean knows he’s going to have to explain this to Jack and Eileen when they get home. They’re out on a hunt. They’ll be home soon. He’ll have to be there for them, especially Jack.

Jack isn’t at full power anymore. He’s got the grace of an angel but that’s it. It might be all they need though. Dean needs to keep a clear head so he can explain the plan.

An hour into their work, he hears footsteps in the hall and voices calling their names.

Sam stops what he’s doing and looks to Dean.

Dean nods.

They can’t let Jack walk in and find Cas like this without preparing him, so Sam leaves to explain.

He hears Sam’s voice echoing back into the room. Then he hears Jack shout.

The three of them rush into the room. Eileen and Sam are trying to restrain Jack.

Dean takes a deep breath. He licks his lips.

Jack looks from Cas to Dean and back to Cas.

“He’s going to be ok,” says Dean. “We’re going to keep his vessel safe and we’re going to get him back.”

Tears are welling up in Jack’s eyes.

Something deep in Dean’s body cracks, but Dean is quick to repair it. Cas will come back and they will keep fighting. “He’s got to be in one of four places. We can get to all of them except The Empty.”

Jack stares at Cas.

“Look at me,” says Dean. “We’re going to get him back.”

Jack nods. “All right.”

Sam’s got a hand on his shoulder and Eileen has an arm around his waist. All three are watching Dean.

He clenches his jaw. A tiny little voice in the back of his mind whispers to him. Dean doesn’t even know what it says. It’s too distant. It doesn’t matter. It’s not productive to dwell on what they can’t do.

“We’re a family,” says Dean. “We stick together no matter what.”

“We’re going to find him,” says Jack.

“Damn right,” says Dean. “You wanna help us with the spell or do you need a breather?”

“I want to help,” answers Jack.

“Good man. Time to soldier up.”

The four of them finish the spell. When it’s done, Dean finally feels the exhaustion creeping in. They stand back while Dean checks their work. It’s a solid spell.

“Can I,” begins Jack, he wipes his eyes, “can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Yes,” answers Sam quickly. “We’ll all camp in here.”

“I’ll get the sleeping bags,” says Eileen.

Dean doesn’t argue. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He’s too tired.

They spread out on the floor, careful to avoid the sigils and markings.

Despite his exhaustion, Dean can’t sleep. He gets up quietly and leaves the room. He goes to the Impala. It’s still parked in front of the bunker. The back door isn’t even shut good and the seats are still covered in blood.

Dean sits behind the wheel. He feels a tear roll down his cheek and wipes it away. “Hey, Cas,” he says. “I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if anyone can hear me, but I figured it’s worth a shot.” He feels that thing in him crack again. “I’m so sorry I let you down. I don’t know where you are but we’re gonna find you. Stay safe and hang tight. We’re coming for you.” His breath hitches.

He places both hands on the wheel and clings to it. “I don’t know where you are,” he says again. “I need a sign. I need to know you’re there. Please, Cas. I need to hear you or see you or something. Anything. I’ll take anything.” He shivers. “Please,” he says softly. “I need to know you can hear me.” He wipes the tears away. He can’t afford a breakdown. “I’m coming for you.”

He cranks the car up and drives it into the garage. He needs to work on it and if he can’t sleep it might as well be productive.

He washes the Impala, inside and out. It takes all night.

Sam finds him in the morning. “Hey,” he says. “Did you sleep?”

“Yeah,” Dean answers. It’s not worth explaining the truth.

“Dean?”

“What?”

“Stop for a second.”

Dean puts the cleaning rag down. He’s just polishing the hood. The Impala is almost back to normal. “What?”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“I heard you get up last night.”

“So?”

“Why bother lying to me?”

Dean shrugs.

“Come on. You’re not ok.”

Dean punches the hood of the car and Sam jumps. It surprises Dean, too. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I want you to be honest. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking you need to shut the fuck up.”

Sam holds up his hands. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I just don’t want to see you spiral.”

“I’m fine, Sam. I’m fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Jesus, Dean. Have you been drinking?”

“Fuck you.”

“Please, just talk to me.”

“What the hell do you need to know? I’m talking, aren’t I? We’re having a goddamn conversation, aren’t we?”

“Are we? Because this feels pretty one-sided. Why are you mad at me?”

He’s mad because Sam is picking at a wound that hasn’t even formed a scab yet.

“If you don’t want to talk,” says Sam, “that’s fine. I just want you to be ok.”

“You don’t believe we’re gonna get Cas back, do you?”

“Of course, I believe. We always bounce back. This isn’t anything we haven’t seen before.”

Dean nods. “Sorry I yelled,” he mutters.

“It’s all right. You need help?”

“No.”

“How about you go try to sleep. I’ll have food ready when you wake up.”

“Yeah, ok.” Dean doesn’t look back as he heads to Cas’ room. He doesn’t even realize it’s weird until he finds himself repositioning his sleeping bag as close to Cas as he can. 


	3. Cold spot

Castiel comes to in his room. He blinks at his surroundings. He’s not laying down, as he expected. Instead he’s standing, or hovering, near the door. He looks down at his hands. They’re nearly transparent but seem to take form the longer he stares at them. He flexes his fingers trying to adjust to the new sensation.

It takes a minute for him to realize what’s happened. He’s dead and he hasn’t moved on. He looks around the room. His body is laying on his bed with sigils and salt surrounding it.

Dean is in a sleeping bag on the floor near the bed.

Castiel moves toward him and sets a hand on his shoulder.

Dean shivers and pulls the bag tighter.

In his many eons of existence, he’s never experienced this before. He has no idea what he can and can’t do. After a moment, he discovers ghosts can cry.

He wipes his tears away and sits on the floor beside Dean. He never got to tell Dean he loved him; really loved him. He never got to tell him that he didn’t regret dying if it could be in Dean’s arms; never got to tell him how much Dean’s last words to him meant. “I love you too,” he whispers.

He wonders how he can exist in the bunker. He thought it was warded against supernatural beings.

Dean stirs.

Castiel hears footsteps.

Jack enters the room.

Castiel stands and rushes to him.

Jack frowns. He holds out a hand. “Castiel?”

“Yes,” he answers quickly.

Dean mutters something in his sleep.

Jack hurries over to him and shakes him awake. “Dean,” he says, excitement evident.

“What?” mutters Dean.

“Wake up. I think I sense Castiel.”

Dean rubs his eyes. “What did you say?”

“I feel a presence.”

“Yes,” breathes Castiel. “I’m here.”

“Someone is in the room with us,” says Jack.

Dean sits up and looks around. “Cas?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s here,” says Jack.

“How?” asks Dean. “How is that possible?”

“I have no idea, but I’m sure we’re not alone and I’m almost positive Castiel is with us.”

Dean scrambles to his feet. He holds out a hand. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He’s a ghost, I think, but I can’t see him.”

“Look for a cold spot,” says Dean.

Castiel reaches out for Dean’s hand with both of his.

“It’s cold here,” says Dean. He steps forward, unknowingly standing toe to toe with Castiel.

Jack feels around blindly. “The energy is different where you’re standing.” He bites his lip. “Castiel? Can you give us a sign?”

Castiel searches for something to move or break, anything to let them know he’s nearby. He focuses his energy on his trench coat which Dean was using as a pillow. It doesn’t budge. “Come on,” he growls. “Please.”

He hears footsteps again. This time Sam and Eileen enter the room.

“What’s going on?” asks Sam. “I heard you calling for Cas. Is everything all right?”

“Jack says he can sense Cas,” answers Dean. “And I felt a cold spot. I think he’s here.”

Sam looks to Eileen.

She signs to him quickly. _Do you think it’s true?_ she asks.

 _I don’t know,_ Sam signs back.

“It’s true,” says Jack. “He’s here. There’s a cold spot, too. See?” He takes Sam and Eileen by the

hands and leads them to the spot where Castiel is standing.

Sam nods. “I feel it,” he says.

“Are you sure it’s him?” asks Eileen gently.

“I’m positive it’s something,” answers Jack. “There’s presence in this room.”

Sam looks around. “Have you asked for a sign?”

“Yeah,” answers Dean. “But we haven’t gotten anything.”

Eileen signs to the room. _Cas, if you’re here, can you move something so we can see you?_

Sam watches her movements, then echos her message. “Just in case he can’t see us,” he says.

Castiel tries again to move the trench coat. Nothing.

“Can I see that book with the preservation spell?” asks Sam.

“It’s on the desk,” answers Dean. “You grab it. I don’t want to lose Cas.” He nods to the spot in front of him.

Sam picks up the book. He flips through the pages. “Have you read the spell entirely?”

“Of course,” answers Dean.

“It’s just a little strange,” says Sam. “The bunker is warded against ghosts, demons, angels and

every other type of creature. If Jack can detect something that might not be a good sign.”

Dean raises an eyebrow and shoots Sam a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” answers Sam, browsing through the book. “Or it could mean anything. I don’t know yet.”

Castiel wants to move to check the sigils but he doesn’t want to move away from Dean. He looks around at the ones he can see on this side of the bed. A small symbol written in chalk near the top of the bed catches his eye. Curiosity gets the better of him and he wanders to it.

“Cas?”

“I’m here,” he says. “I’ll be right back. I just need to check something.” He forgets Dean can’t hear him.  
The bed is pulled out about four feet from the wall and it’s sitting in the middle of the floor with several rings of magic around it. He can’t cross the salt barrier, but he can read most of the signs scribbled on the floor.

It’s an old rune, but he recognizes it. If he remembers correctly it’s part of an attachment spell. He reads the rest of it. After he puts the whole thing together it makes sense. They bound his soul to his body. He realizes the warding on the bunker must keep spirits from entering, not from being created and detained. This is all crucial information and he can’t share any of it. He moves back to stand where Dean is grasping at the air.

Dean and Jack have their backs to Sam and Eileen, but Castiel can see them.

Eileen signals to Sam.

He looks up from the book.

 _I need to talk to you,_ she signs.

Sam nods. He clears his throat. “Eileen, will you help me in the library?” He hands the book to Dean. “You two look over every page of this thing. We need to know if we missed something.”

Dean reaches his hand out for the book but doesn’t leave his spot.

Sam huffs and gives him the book. He and Eileen leave the room.

Castiel hates to move again but he wants to know what Sam and Eileen are talking about. He moves from Dean’s reach.

“Dammit,” says Dean. “Lost him again.”

Castiel follows Sam and Eileen to the library.

Sam checks to make sure they weren’t followed. He signals that it’s ok to talk.

 _“Are we sure this is real?”_ she asks. _And if it is real, how do we know it’s Cas? What if it’s a demon and Jack doesn’t realize it._

 _I was thinking the same thing,_ Sam signs back. _I’m not even sure Jack is sensing anything real. I think he just wants to feel something._

 _What do we do?_ she asks.

_The same thing we did when Dean wanted to preserve the body. We play along._

Eileen winces. _Are we sure this is healthy? At some point they’re going to have to grieve._

 _I don’t care,_ answers Sam. _The last time Dean lost Cas he also lost the will to live. I don’t want Jack to lose another father. If this is what keeps him going, then this is what we’re going to do._

Eileen nods. _Ok. I want them to be all right._

 _I think the best thing to do,_ signed Sam, _is set a demon trap outside of the door and find a spell that forces ghosts to reveal themselves._

Eileen agrees and they begin looking through the books.

Castiel goes back to Dean.

He’s walking carefully around the room with his hands outstretched. “I know he’s here somewhere,” he says.

Jack is seated at the desk looking over the book.

Castiel reaches out to Dean. “Hold on,” he says. “We’ll be together again soon.”


	4. The spell

Dean looks over Sam’s shoulder. “What kind of spell is that?” he asks.

“Reveal spell,” answers Sam. “If Cas is here, this will make him visible.”

“What do you mean ‘if’?”

“I meant—”

“You meant if Cas is here and if Jack and I aren’t crazy?”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” answers Sam. “I just said it. I wasn’t thinking anything.” 

“If,” mutters Dean. “If nothing. Cas is here.” He gestures to the place beside him. “You felt the cold spot. He’s here.”

“Right,” says Sam. “Of course.”

Dean glances at the spot beside him. It has to be Cas. Nothing else could get into the bunker. Eileen and Jack are getting ingredients for the spell from the basement.

“You know,” says Sam, “we could just shoot him with rock salt and he’d probably show up.”

Dean slaps the back of his head. “This is Cas we’re talking about. That shit’s not funny.”

“I’m just kidding.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“Hey Cas,” says Sam, “If you don’t want us to shoot you, knock something over.”

They both pause for a moment.

Nothing happens.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” says Dean. “Maybe he can’t do anything yet.”

“What?”

“Maybe there’s a ghost learning-curve.”

“Right,” says Sam. “That makes sense.”

He sounds sincere but Dean feels like Sam’s mocking him. Something cold brushes against his fingertips. Dean clears his throat. But then he remembers no one can see Cas. Not yet.

He stretches his fingers into the space beside him.

Something cold slowly wraps around his hand.

Dean’s breath hitches and he licks his lips. They’ve developed a silent, invisible relationship over the past few days. Dean hasn’t said anything about it, but he’s felt the cold spot follow him into his room at bedtime. It stands beside him when he makes breakfast for everyone in the morning. No matter where he goes, the cold spot always manifests too close.

“We got the ingredients,” says Jack. He and Eileen enter the room carrying various bones, blood, bags of herbs and other nasty things.

Dean goes to help them. The cold thing is still holding his hand. It follows right beside him. It leaves when Dean takes the bones from Jack, but he runs smack into it when he turns around. It follows him as he lays the bones out on the desk. It touches his shoulder as he arranges them into a pentagram. He sets the cat skull in the center.

Eileen has a small brass bowl full of dried blood.

“We just need to mix this stuff together and set it on fire,” says Sam.

“We’ve only got one shot at this,” says Eileen. “It calls for our last bit of human ashes.”

“I can get more,” says Dean.

Eileen mixes the herbs, blood and ashes in the bowl. She nestles a fire-starter in the center and lights it.

Suddenly it occurs to Dean he can’t let Cas manifest holding his hand. But he couldn’t tell Cas to let go and take a few steps back without drawing attention to what they were doing. “How do you think he’ll show up?” asks Dean.

“I have no idea,” answers Sam.

“Maybe he’ll appear by the bed. Or in the corner, or something,” says Dean.

Cas seems to get the message because the cold spot moves away from him.

They watch the fire. Jack looks around the room. “Look for the cold spot,” he says.

Dean takes a step and finds that Cas didn’t move very far. He pretends to wander around for a minute. “Found it,” he says. He points.

“Look,” says Eileen.

Dean squints. It’s very faint, but he can see an outline forming. He takes a step back. It’s Cas. He knows it as a soon as he sees the shape of his face. His heart is pounding and he’s not sure why. He hears Sam inhale.

“Castiel?” asks Jack.

His voice is faint but it’s him. “I’m here,” he answers.

Eileen and Sam exhale at the same time.

Dean takes a step forward.

“Wait,” says Sam.

Cas holds up his hands. “It’s me,” he says.

“Leave the room and come back in,” says Sam.

“All right,” says Cas, his voice getting stronger, more real. He leaves and returns to his spot.

“Good,” says Sam.

“You painted a demon trap on the ceiling, didn’t you?” asks Cas.

“Dammit, Sam. I knew you didn’t believe,” says Dean.

“I’m a little more convinced now,” he says.

“Ask me something only I would know,” says Cas.

“Do you watch Dean sleep at night?” asks Sam.

“Sometimes,” answers Cas flatly.

Sam grins.

Dean feels the blood drain from his face.

“I watched him for quite some time before he told me it was ‘creepy,’ but now—”

“Cas,” says Dean. “Shut up, he’s fucking with you.”

“Sorry,” says Sam. “The revealing spell only works on ghosts and demons. If you’re not a demon, you must be a ghost.”

“Ah,” says Cas.

“This is great,” says Dean. “You’re back, kind of. We can at least talk to you. I’d call that a win.”

“We just need to put you back in your body,” says Jack.

“I have to die first,” says Cas. “The spell you’re using to preserve my body is also keeping me from moving on.” 

“So, we break the spell, let you move on, then bring you back,” says Dean. “Right?”

“Essentially, yes,” answers Cas. “But I’m not sure where my soul will go after death.”

“You died human,” says Jack. “Surely you’ll go to Heaven or Hell.”

“In all likelihood, yes,” answers Cas.

“But there’s no guarantee,” finishes Dean. “You could go to The Empty and we’d never see you again.” 

“I brought you back from The Empty before,” says Jack. “I can do it again.”

“Easy hotshot,” says Dean. “You’re only at half power.”

“There is another problem,” says Castiel. “The spell you’re using will eventually bind me to the mortal realm for eternity.”

“How long do we have before that happens?” asks Eileen.

“It takes a while,” answers Cas. “Probably a month or two.”

“That’s not a lot of time,” says Dean, panic rising in his chest. “You’re telling me our options are eternal ghost or take a gamble and see where your soul ends up?”

“Yes,” answers Cas.

“And we’ve got a month to figure this out?”

“Yes. A month or two.”

“But what if we find a way to force your soul to Heaven?” asks Sam.

“Hell is probably safer for him,” says Dean.

“I don’t think there is a way to do that,” says Cas.

“Can you leave this room?” asks Sam. “How far can you go?”

“I can go anywhere in the bunker,” answers Cas.

Dean already knew that, but it’s nice to have it confirmed. “We’ll figure this out,” he says. “You’re here and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m no help like this,” says Cas.

“We don’t care about that,” says Dean. “We’re just happy to have you back.”


End file.
